


that ourselves know not what it is

by voksen



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 3 Sentence Fiction, M/M, Punish Me M. le Maire, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, grammar what grammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/pseuds/voksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: "punish me monsieur le maire - from nothing to smut in three sentences, go go go!"</p><p>...well, I almost got there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that ourselves know not what it is

Valjean cannot remember how many times he has been on his knees before Javert - in truth, one guard had blended into another often enough in Toulon - but it had never been like this, never so close, never so personal, never _alone;_ when Javert looks up at him from the dusty wood of his floor with those strangely despondent desolate eyes, Valjean does not feel it so much a parallel, a reversal, as an overturning that threatens to throw him from his own feet and place him back in the earth from which he had risen.

“Please,” Javert says again, “Monsieur le Maire, I must be—” and then their eyes meet directly, unexpectedly: it sparks some strange unnatural fire between them that swallows Javert’s voice in an instant and steals Valjean’s breath away with it; he reaches down and touches Javert’s shoulder to steady himself - he means to steady himself - he pulls him closer instead; Javert’s hands come up to rest against his legs, curving around the backs of his thighs, and this, this is why he has never knelt alone before anyone but God, but he has no breath and no words to deny it.

Javert does not speak again; this thing between them, which Valjean does not have a word or a name for, unless it is Satan (though even that does not seem quite right), it speaks for them: in Javert’s voice it says again “Punish me, Monsieur, use me as I deserve to be used, and then cast me out” - in Madeleine’s voice it says “Serve me as you think I deserve; if you have wronged me, I will forgive,” and while Valjean does not know how to answer it, Javert is (he has grown to know this, he is not surprised) as adept at taking orders as he had once been at giving them; he presses his face to the front of Valjean’s thigh, leaning into him, breaking their gaze at last; his hands deftly work at buttons; soon his mouth is apologizing without words, and the shuddering sigh he draws as answer is equally at home in the throat of Jean-le-Cric as in that of Monsieur Madeleine.


End file.
